


Sleep-singing

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Honestly just churning these out now, Semi-infected Paul, Sleep talking, based off Jons sleep talking video on his channel, post apotheosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:40:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Based almost entirely off this video Jon uploaded to his channel ages ago.https://youtu.be/SFuzq_1vnmM





	Sleep-singing

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh I’m just churning these out so if u have any suggestions or requests just leave a comment !

“Hey, Paul?” Emma peered up at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “How’d you sleep?”   
He swallowed a mouthful of cereal. “Fine I guess, why?”   
She took another sip from her cup, using it to cover her face as she spoke. “You were singing in your sleep last night.”   
He looked offended for a second, then his expression warped into something more shocked. “No I wasn’t.”   
“Well yeah you were. How would you know? You were asleep.” She set her cup down, leaning across the breakfast table.   
He huffed, shrugging. “Well I guess you’re right.” He was pushing in his chair and taking his plate to the sink when he looked over his shoulder again. “You know you talk in your sleep too sometimes.”  
“I don’t, I’ve never done that,” she snorted, following closely on his heels to the sink with her mug.   
“How would you know? You were asleep,” he teased, putting her mug in the dishwasher.   
She reared up in the tips of her toes to try and match his height. She glared at him.   
“Well can you just try not to tonight?”   
“Whatever, sure, if I start singing just shove me and I’ll wake up,” he suggested, backing off. “But if you talk, I’ll wake you up.”   
“Fine,” she compromised.   
She grabbed her apron off the hook as he grabbed his jacket. She tied up her apron as he put on his jacket, the two had an unbroken eye contact. They both shot each other suspicious glares on their way to work. 

———————————————————

“Paul, you’re singing,” Emma rolled over, kicking the sheets off her legs.   
“I am not singing,” Paul argued, still deep asleep.   
“You. Are sleep singing,” she repeated, running the corner of the blanket between her fingers.   
“Am not. You are.”  
Emma shot upright, a sleepy hand reaching out to grab Paul. “‘M not s’alking. You are.”   
“Well sorry,” he rolled over, grabbing one of her wrists. “I don’t have time to argue I’ve got to go to work where I serve coffee and I...” he trailed off.  
“You don’t serve coffee,” she tried to tell him, her words incoherent. “You are sleeping you can’t go to work.” She fell back into her pillow.   
The two of them would’ve been staring daggers at each other if either of them were actually awake.   
“Well I’m going to work and I’m going to serve ‘roasted cup of coffee.”  
“Your sleep singing.”   
“I’m not, you are. ‘Morning cup of zoey.”  
“Those aren’t not the lyrics,” she tried to argue, the song so deeply rooted in her memory at this point she could literally recite it in her sleep. “And Zoey is a fucking bitch.” She reached out to punch the air. “Morning cup of joe-y,” she corrected him.   
“Morning cup of...” his mumblings were unintelligible. “-with the froth for you Jack.”   
“Piss off, you aren’t doing it right,” she growled.  
“Well how would you know because I serve coffee and not you!” Paul rebutted, all the time he spent in Beanie’s swooning over her was clearly wearing off on him.  
“No I serve coffee and you don’t and you are singing in your sleep!”  
“I’m not! You are!” He grumbled.  
“I’m not! You are!” She shouted back, raising her voice to a point she could’ve almost woken both of them up.   
“You’re asleep!”  
“No you’re asleep!”   
“No you are!” 

———————————————————

Paul stretched his hands up above his head, yawning. He was awfully tired considering how early he went to sleep last night.   
Emma had circles under her eyes so deep she looked like she wasn’t going to wake up for the next century. Still beautiful though, he smiled.   
The clock read 5:59, and as it rolled over to 6:00 it began to chirp.  
Emma cracked open one eye, he hadn’t even said anything and she already looked mad.   
“Good morning, how’d you sleep?” He asked.  
“Like fucking shit. I’m exhausted. I feel like I was up all night.” She slammed the sleep button on her alarm clock.  
“Oh, really? Any sleep singing?”   
She seemed thoughtful. “No, no sleep singing. Any sleep talking?”   
“No, not at all!”   
They both congratulated each other sleepily and stretched again.   
“I’ve got to go to work,” she rolled out of bed, turning her clock off all together.   
“Love you,” Paul shut his eyes again. He didn’t have to get up for another hour. “Say it back.”   
“Not into that romance shit,” she reminded him.   
“I know. Love you too, Emma.”


End file.
